Against All Odds
by Sewnata
Summary: My name is Bryan Denton, and I'm a reporter for the Sun. I'm also a proud supporter of the Newsies Strike. When I first joined the boys, I was willing to accept what negative attention I would receive. Little did I know that that attention might be crippling. PLEASE READ, REVIEW and CRITIQUE!
1. Chapter 1

A Newsies Fanfiction

From Denton's POV

Disclaimer: I don't own anybody from Newsies.

Last night, the Sun didn't set, it fell. Crashing down around my own ears. My boss, the editor, Mr. John B. Bogart told me I was fired, and that he would make sure that none of my stories were accepted anywhere, after the recent "scandal".

I hadn't the heart to tell Jack, after all, even though he deserved to know, it wouldn't help matters that one of his only allies had been beaten with a stick, did it?

I looked up at the hall clock, stuffing the bundle of privately published papers into a white bag swinging freely from my shoulder. It might be difficult to get the word out, but I wasn't going to ask for help from the boys, they had their own troubles.

"Excuse me, sir." I squeaked, bumping into a police officer on his daily beat. He didn't question me, just quirked a suspicious eyebrow.

I made my way down to a street corner, clearing my throat and wishing I looked younger. "Papers! Papers! Would you care for a paper, sir?" I looked up into the taller man's face, wincing at the stabbing realization that I looked like a bum. I had to get the message out somehow though, I'd promised the boys I would.

"Look, Billy. This is exactly what we talked about last night. You can't grow up to become a bum, like this man here." A well dressed woman was gesturing at me with her pocket book, a look of contempt on her face.

I sighed. Would the day never be finished?

"Hey ya scabbah, what does you think ya's doin' with…"

I stared down at Jack Kelly, who had a confused look on his face. I tugged my newsboy cap lower over my face, hoping he wouldn't recognize me.

"Denton? Is dat really you? Why is you goin' 'round here sellin' papes?" Jack tried to steal the cap from off of my head, but I smooshed it back on again.

"No, don't know any Denton." I tried to roughen my accent. It might not fool Jack, but for people who didn't know me, it was probably pretty convincing.

Jack pulled the cap off my head completely. "It IS you, Denton! What is you doin' heah, sellin' papes?" He repeated, gripping my shoulders and shaking me a bit. There was concern in his eyes.

I turned away, pacing back to my "news stand". "Business, Jack, as usual. I'm hiding from Bogart." That wasn't a complete lie, Bogart had threatened sending his muscle after me, especially since I was such a key component to the Newsies strike. He said it might be demoralizing to them if I were to disappear.

Jack crossed his arms. "You don't expect me ta believe that, Denton? Aftah all, you'se got a good job wit' Mr. Bogart at de Sun, why would he suddenly take ya out like dat?" He wondered. His eyes widened when he finally realized.

"Because of you boys, he'd do anything to me, Jack. Now, you get along, I don't want them finding me with you, it'll only give them more evidence." I backed away from him, only to run into a rather burly fellow behind me. "Oh, sorry."

He grabbed me by the elbow, turning me to face him. "So, Mr. Denton, my boss is lookin' for ya, and he told me ta bring ya back to the offices." He jammed me roughly in the stomach with a rubber truncheon, making me fold over gasping.

"Hey! Hey, whatcha t'ink you're doin!"

I faintly realized that Jack was trying to get me free, and despite my best efforts to struggle against the man's grip, I was no help.

"Heah, kid. Ya can have some of his punishment for 'im!" The man gave Jack a solid whack to the face, forcing him to fall back, then turned the implement on me again. "C'm on, Mistah Denton, the boss doesn't like waitin'."

I groaned, when I woke up tied to a rather comfortable armchair. "W-who…what…?" I looked up into a stranger's bearded, bespectacled face. He grinned.

"Good evening, Mr. Denton. We've been expecting you for some time now, but my idiot of an employee brought you a bit late. He was hiding from a few of your friends, I'm afraid, an unforeseen occurrence. It won't happen again, I assure you." He said politely.

I peered at his face a moment, wondering where I had seen it before, and then remembered.

"Good evening, Mr. Pulitzer. I'm sorry that my friends didn't succeed in extracting me from your company, but I suppose it would be better for me to spend the evening here." I tried to remain calm, though I must admit my heart was pounding in my chest.

"Well, at least you're polite, unlike you're newsboy followers." Pulitzer gave me a small smile as he paced the floor a bit. "Mr. William Hearst alerted me to the fact that your disappearance could quiet possibly be demoralizing to the newsboys and their cause. They seem to look up to you so much as one of their allies."

I snorted. "I suppose you could say I am. But what are you going to do with me in the meantime? Somebody's sure to see that you brought me in here, and the boys will find me through that grapevine of theirs." I'm afraid I sounded too optimistic.

He laughed. "Don't be so pathetic, Denton. As a newspaperman I would've thought that you would have learned to avoid clichés even in difficult situations. Your friends will be provided for, don't worry." He patted me on the shoulder. "You can't be kept here of course, but the Refuge hardly makes for a good place to hold grown men, so I'm going to have you transferred to the Amesbury Insane Aslyum, so be prepared."

I froze. An _INSANE ASLYUM_? I didn't like the sound of that…especially if it was one of those, rough and tough places, where the doctors were almost as insane as the patients. I sat up a little straighter, struggling against the ropes. "That's really your plan…sir?" I asked haltingly.

Pulitzer gave a rough laugh. "The Amesbury Asylum in Coney Island is a very well known, and good institution. I shall make sure that you are placed in the best of care, Mr. Denton, but you do have to be silenced, I'm afraid."

*Into Amesbury Asylum*

"Here's the place, Mistah Denton." The goon shoved me into the direction of the front gates where two men in white lab coats started to drag me off.

I hardly had time to blink before they pushed me into a cell and slammed the door in my face.

"Ohhhh, look! It's a fancy new gentleman!" A high voice shrieked in my ear, and I felt someone grab me around the waist. "I ain't seen such a pretty young fella in a while, huh Sal?" I cringed when I felt another woman leaning against me, playing with my collar.

"Ummm, ladies…please…" I shoved them both away gently, trying to curl up into a nearby corner.

The one dubbed Sal just giggled. "Ohhh, the laddie's afraid! But he'll be more afraid, soon, when the guard comes back. Let ol' Sal soothe your wounds for ya!" The woman tried to stroke my face, but I hid it behind my knees.

The two women shrieked when the door to our cell opened, and a guard swaggered in, uncoiling the whip that at first lay harmlessly clutched in his hand.

I gaped for a moment, when I felt my cellmates pulling me out of the corner towards the guard…no wonder no one else was in this cell, it was amazing to me that they hadn't snitched on each other. But I didn't resist when the guard pulled my shirt and vest off.

I cried out as the sharp tongue lashed out and snapped against my back.

"Stop…" I managed, and my voice was ragged. The man continued to whip me, the lashes going all over my body, not just my back. Blood dripped from multiple wounds that covered as well as the whiplashes.

The guard laughed at my humiliation. "Teach you and your lousy friends ta rebel." He gave me one last strike with his terrible friend and then left.

I crushed my face into the cold, stone floor, squeezing my eyes shut and wincing at the pain. I didn't expect Jack to find me, now, or anybody to care enough to even try. After all, what if Pulitzer said was true? That I was unwanted because of my values, and what I said in the papers.

I jerked my head up when I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Mr. Denton, sir?" It was Sal. She had an honest look of concern on her face. "How're you feeling, sir?" She dipped my shirt in a cup of water and dabbed at my wounds.

"No…don't touch me, please, ma'am!" I must confess I wasn't very polite in those first few moments of our meeting, despite my ambitions to be kind to the poor souls forced to live in such squalor.

She smiled. "You have nothing to fear from me, sir, I promise you. I am perfectly sound in mind and body, here, look." She rummaged through her skirts and pulled out a card, pressing it into my palm. "I'm a reporter for the Journal. My name is Sally. Sally Hardacre."

"A reporter, for the Journal?" I turned my head so I could see her better. "My boys have been fighting against the New York Journal for some time…but I've heard about your work in reforming insane asylums. You've done an admirable job I must say."

Sally laughed. "Well, I could do better. I've read your works too, the "Newsies Banner" as they call it, and your other articles on the Newsies strike, they're very fascinating. I've always admired your work, like you've admired mine. Some people just can't think to get their hands dirty." She finished binding up my wounded back with my shirt. "That will have to do, but don't you say a word to that guard, I'm crazy you know, Mr. Denton."

I nodded. "Of course Miss Hardacre."

She winked. "Please…call me Sally, or Sal, Mr. Denton."

 **Author's Note: Soooo, what do you think? I know that Denton doesn't really get much love in this fandom...so I couldn't resist.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: Ok, so I don't own any newsies, but I do own Sal, and Mr. Bogart, Denton's boss. Sorry that I didn't mention that before. XD**

Chapter 2

It's strange how the human heart works. One moment, you only admire and half-care about a person's work, and the next moment you care deeply about the person, and not the work.

I can't say that wasn't what happened with Sal and I. We compared notes when we could-when the guard wasn't terrorizing us, and when our cellmate wasn't giving us strange looks.

But you know of course, that days like that-even the happiest ones that you wish would keep on forever-can never last. It was the same.

I woke up one morning to find her standing up in the cell, running her fingers through her clean, blonde hair. Her light pink dress fluttered about her in a flattering manner as she attempted to perch her hat onto her head.

Her blue eyes twinkled when she noticed that I was awake. "Oh, good morning, Bryan."

I smiled back, though I'm afraid it was a bit half hearted. "W-What are you doing? Y-you can't be leaving us?" I meant it as a tease, but I'm afraid it sounded a trifle…soppy as the Newsboys say it.

"Yes, I have to go back to work. My boss wants to have a special meeting with me…why? You're only being held captive by the World."

I sighed. She made it sound so ridiculous. I pushed myself up and knelt down in front of her, blushing. "I-I'm sorry for how silly this might sound, Sally…but I have something to say that can't wait."

Sally turned to me attentively, a bemused look in her eyes. "What is it, Bryan? Will it take very long, you know that my boss wants me back within the hour to testify." She placed a small, gloved hand on my shoulder.

"No, it won't take long." I reassured, shivering deliciously. "Miss Hardacre, I've only known you for about a week, and we've become very close in that time, trying to retain our sanity in a place that most people would shrink at being held captive in. I-I don't have a job at present, but I can get one…if only you'll give me the utmost pleasure of becoming my wife…or even say that you will be my fiancée." I gulped in a deep breath.

She colored. "Why, Mr. Denton! I wouldn't have thought that you of all people would…" She faded off into a laugh. "Well! I suppose I'll have to give you my answer straight away then, since I'm leaving. My answer is yes, Bryan! Yes, yes, yes!" She hugged me around the waist, resting her chin on my shoulder. "I'll be back for you as soon as the trial is over, and then we can go visit your Newsie friends."

I turned and caught her in my arms, holding her close. "Well, you hurry back, alright? I may start to lose my sanity if I stay here much longer. You know what our cell mate it like."

"Yes, I do. I had to spend two months alone with her, before you came. Don't worry, I'll be back." She laughed, touching her forehead to mine.

"Well? What do you think?" Sal and I were standing in front of the newspaper distribution office, watching all the boys take their places for the strike.

Sal shrugged. "This isn't going to be a war, Bryan, this is going to be a massacre, I'm afraid. What makes you think that the World and Journal will listen to your cause? I don't know if I can be of any help, Mr. Hearst fired me, after he learned who I'm engaged to, and before that, I was demoted, as if that isn't enough. No one will accept my work."

I handed her one of my home made newspapers, watching as she scanned it proudly. "We'll start with that. You're added articles should give it some color, and interest people, as I see it." I looked up when I heard someone yelling at me. It sounded a lot like Kid Blink.

"Hey! Hey Denton, we jus' found out der's a bomb near de distribution office! We can't figure out how ta stop it!" He grabbed my arm. "I'se gonna get de place cleared out, dat makes sense why Weasel an' his thugs ain't heah taday."

I helped him evacuate everybody, and was in the act of getting clear myself, when the bomb went off, throwing fifty pound cinderblocks, dangerous chunks of wood and whatever else through the air.

"What…?" I barely kept my footing, when I noticed the surge of police officers careening around the corner of the building across from me, almost as if they had been waiting for the explosion.

I tried to snap a picture of the burning rubble with my camera, only to have one of the policeman's horse's stumble over the rest of my apparatus. He collapsed, crushing my camera and me beneath his weight.

"Y-you alright, lad?" The officer asked, concern in his face. He knelt down, smacking my cheek.

"Alright? I-I don't think so, officer." I coughed, licking my lips and making a face at the taste of blood. "Would you mind moving your…horse?" I struggled out, trying to turn my head painfully when I heard Jack calling my name.

"Denton! Denton, is you alright!?" Jack grabbed at the lapels of my shirt, as soon as the horse's weight stopped pressing on my chest. "You-you'se bleedin'!" There was terror in his eyes now at that new revelation.

I gave a weak grin. "Relax, boys. I'm just a little crushed, nothing more. I should be back on my feet in no time."

Jack shook his head. "You'se not goin' nowhere, Denton, except ta de hospital. You've always helped us Newsies out when we's was sick, now I'm doin' de same for you. Maybe Sal can help us out, but you'se needs de hospital, fast."

The police officer's came through with a stretcher, although they'd been pushing the Newsies around a bit, just to get it, and lifted me up onto it.

The Irish Sergeant peered into my face, poking at me a bit to see what injuries I had sustained. His brow furrowed. "It's to St. John's with you, lad. You won't live long with those injuries, if you don't have proper help." He dabbed at my mouth with his handkerchief, showing me the blood. He backed away, when Sal knelt down beside me.

"Bryan! Bryan, I'm going to look into this, alright? I don't know who set up that bomb, but I intend to find out. In the meantime, don't you worry. I'm quite capable, and you need your rest!" She stroked my hair back from my forehead.

*At the Hospital*

Is someone coming? My voice was raspy from misuse. I was alone and I had been for so long, the only light came from the sewer below the street. I had tried yelling but when I did, the nurses came in again to check on me. I'm a twenty-nine year old ex-war correspondent. They shouldn't' scare me.

"Hello, Mr. Denton! I was wondering when you would make your appearance! You know, you were supposed to be dead by now."

I looked up from my hospital bed, shivering at the cold night air blowing across my stiff, paralyzed body. Somehow, the covers had been blown off of me.

The doctor had told me I might never walk or move again, unless he were able to do a special procedure. But I hadn't made up my mind about that yet.

"You're not aware that was a distinct attempt upon your life, did you, sir?"

It was Bogart. He was glaring at me from his perch in the chair by my bedside, a murderous glint in his eyes. He stroked the edge of some shiny, cruel thing in his hand.

"No, I wasn't aware. Well, what can an unpopular reporter expect? I thought it was against the Newsies themselves, to finish them off? My fiancée made the astute observation that it would be a massacre instead of a war. I was willing to believe her. But now I'm starting to believe it's a war about me, and not about them." I couldn't have shook my head if I'd wanted to, so I did it the best I could with my eyes.

"Aww, well just look at them, willing to sacrifice themselves for you, how touching." Bogart reached over and pressed the cold glittering thing against my chest. It was a knife, a scalpel. I wondered how and when he'd picked it up.

"Get that mean thing away from him."

I hadn't realized that Jack would stake out my room…I guess that the past couple abusive days had made him wary. He was hiding somewhere in the room, but neither I, nor Bogart knew precisely where.

"Jack…don't get yourself hurt." I'm afraid I didn't sound too firm, I desperately wanted SOMEBODY there, but not a seventeen year-old kid. "He'll hurt you, and your friends, I'd rather he kill me."

Jack snorted. "You really t'ink so, Mistah Denton, huh? Well I got dis ta say. You'se gonna be a married man soon, if all goes well, an' Sal don't need you dyin' on her jus' when you've jus' met her a couple a weeks ago. You'se gonna marry her, an' I'm gonna make sure you do." He shuffled out from behind the open curtains, his jaw set.

"Why, you're just a kid! I didn't know that Bryan Denton had Jack Kelly on his side…you know Snyder's been looking for you…maybe I'll just kill Denton here, then take you along for the gold. Whaddya say, kid? Why don't we go bust this strike?" Bogart sounded plumb serious about the killing me bit, but it's hard to show any…physical protest when you're paralyzed from a horse dropping on top of you.

Jack wrapped his arms around Bogart's neck in a death choke, a fierce look in his eyes. "Nobody, but NOBODY hoits my friends! Ya understand?! Denton's jus' helpin' us out wit' de Strike, dat don't mean dat you have ta try an' ruin his life like you have been. Takin' away his job, demotin' him, then havin' his fiancée demoted an' kicked out of the New York Journal, jus' cause she's gonna marry him. If dat's de way you're gonna treat him an' his fiancée, den' you'se has me ta answer ta."

Bogart gave a stiff choke, his face turning a dull shade of purple. "Let go of me, kid! Ain't you got any respect for your elders!"

Jack laughed. "Oh, I respects 'em alright, when they ain't hoitin' my friends, or tryin' ta stop us from doin' somet'in dat's right. You people has taken away practically everyt'in we has, or ever did have. You ain't takin' Denton too." He maneuvered Bogart over by the open window, making him stick his head out. "Now, I'se eidah gonna t'row you out de windah, or you'se goin' out yourself. What's your plan?"

"Alright! Alright! I'm going! But they'll be back for Denton again, Kelly. And this time, we'll be bringing a whole army, instead of just one. They want him DEAD!"

Jack faked a move at him, sitting down in the vacant chair by my bed and sighing. "Sorry 'bout that, Denton. T'ings jus' have been goin' from bad to worse. You're heah in de hospital 'cause of a stupid bomb, an' a horse landin' on top of ya's….Crutchy's in de clink with Specs. I jus' don't know what ta do anymore. I'se afraid it'll get woise, ya know?"

"Don't worry about it, Jack, we'll get through it. After all, we're not going to back down, are we?" I smiled. "The doctor is going to help me get better, then we'll take care of this Snyder/Refuge business, don't you worry. I already have a scathing article in mind for him."

Jack grinned. "That's my Denton, once we get ya all fixed up. But you make sure you ain't at Tibby's for awhile. I wants ya to be all healed up before you come back on the job. 'Sides, you an' Sal need ta write all those articles for us." He patted my shoulder.


End file.
